


now you're here (with me)

by xslytherclawx



Series: Chanukah 5779 [9]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Neville Longbottom, Bisexual Male Character, Friends to Lovers, Hanukkah, Healer Anthony Goldstein, Jewish Character, Jewish Holidays, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-12 17:04:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16876767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xslytherclawx/pseuds/xslytherclawx
Summary: This was, Anthony thought, exactly why you shouldn’t move in with someone and totally give up your own flat before you even knew that you’d be compatible in cohabitation. He thought if he ever got to the point of living with someone in a relationship, he’d keep his own flat for at least a month or two. Just to be sure.But then neither Neville nor Hannah had been in Ravenclaw, so he didn’t think he could truly fault them.Fortunately, Anthony had had a spare room.





	now you're here (with me)

**Author's Note:**

> This is technically compliant with my Ravenclaw AU, but for all intents and purposes, it can be considered canon compliant because the divergences I've made in Ravenclaw AU don't impact this fic at all.
> 
> I've fleshed out an entire family background for Anthony within Ravenclaw AU, but it's not required reading for this (and I honestly don't think anyone but his uncle and grandparents have actually appeared in anything I've published so far in that).

This was, Anthony thought, _exactly_ why you shouldn’t move in with someone and totally give up your own flat before you even knew that you’d be compatible in cohabitation. He thought if he ever got to the point of living with someone in a relationship, he’d keep his own flat for at least a month or two. Just to be sure.

But then neither Neville nor Hannah had been in Ravenclaw, so he didn’t think he could _truly_ fault them.

Fortunately, Anthony had had a spare room. He’d known better than to pry, and had simply asked Neville to respect that he kept a kosher household by keeping all treyf meats out of the flat. Neville, as one would expect, accepted this without complaint, and then paused to ask for a clarification on what, exactly, constituted _treyf._

And if Anthony thought there was some benefit to living with an Auror – well, surely no one could blame him. Anthony, for his part, had followed in his family tradition by becoming a Healer. Sometimes, he thought, that meant that he understood some of Neville’s problems better than their other friends – because they were both following in their parents’ footsteps, and while Anthony found the comparisons thrust upon him _bearable,_ he also knew that his parents hadn’t been war heroes who’d fallen before their time.

(“A Jewish Healer, can you imagine?” he’d joked to Neville when he’d received his acceptance letter for the program.

Neville had frowned, confused, and had asked, “But both your parents are Healers, aren’t they? And they’re Jewish, too.”)

Contrary to his Uncle Isaac, who’d quit the Healer program just before he’d finished to go to rabbinical school, Anthony had completed the program with top marks – and he loved his job. His experience during the war had doubtlessly given him an edge – after all, the natural complement to defensive magic was _healing_ magic, and they’d all had to get pretty good at that when recovering from the Carrows.

It wasn’t all sunshine, of course. Certain things – people, places, spell damage – reminded him viscerally of the war. There had even been one very tense moment in training when he’d encountered Neville in the Janus Thickey ward – with his parents. He’d known before, of course;  it wasn’t something that Neville was particularly open about, but Anthony’s grandmother and aunt both worked in spell damage, and his Aunt Miri had mentioned the Longbottoms by name enough to inspire a bit of research. It hadn’t even been particularly difficult to sniff out, and some pointed questions to his Uncle Isaac had confirmed it. And that had all been before Bellatrix Lestrange had broken out of Azkaban.

(“I wasn’t working at Saint Mungo’s anymore, by that point – but it was all over the news. You know Max’s brother had been – friendly with Frank Longbottom in school. Don’t know that I ever saw him that distraught before.”)

Living with Neville was as peaceful and pleasant as he’d expected – that was to say, mostly, with the exception of when they were reminded of the war. They understood each other – both adult men who’d been forced to grow up far too quickly in the throes of war, and there was a mutual understanding when they encountered each other in the kitchen at three in the morning: pour another cup of tea, and sit quietly.

Anthony had adjusted to the plants absolutely _everywhere_ before he’d expected, but he knew that Neville knew better than to put anything truly dangerous out in the common areas. Anthony would ask him about some of the rarer plants from time to time.

If – after a few weeks or months of living together – he realised with an uncomfortable twist one morning (as Neville _sang_ to one of his plants wearing nothing but a bath towel) that Neville Longbottom was incredibly attractive, well, it wasn’t as if he didn’t already know that he was interested in men.

* * *

Neville went home to his Gran for Christmas, and Anthony didn’t see him at the hospital when he did his rounds that morning. It made sense, after all; since the war, it seemed that Neville had blocked out all of Boxing Day for the express purpose of visiting with his parents. (Not that Anthony knew that firsthand, but his Aunt Miri could be a terrible gossip).

After work, Anthony took the tube to his parents’ house in Golders Green. He knew that he could just Floo, but it was a Sunday evening, and a Christian holiday, so the tube provided its own unique form of entertainment. Besides, sometimes it was nice to spend a few minutes in the Muggle world, among people who had no idea how close they’d come to all being killed not even a decade ago.

He rang the doorbell, shaking himself out of his thoughts, and his cousin Naomi answered the door. She hugged him tightly. “Anthony!”

Anthony had had no idea that Naomi and her family were even in the country; his uncles had, it seemed, permanently relocated to the States, and it didn’t seem like they wanted to move back any time soon.

“Hey, Naomi! I didn’t know you’d be here!”

“Ta and Dad thought it’d be nice for all of us to visit, and Jonathan’s got an interview at the Ministry while we’re here.”

That explained it, but he wasn’t sure why neither of his parents had _told_ him. He’d run into them both more than once at work over the past week. But that wasn’t a discussion for the moment. He stepped into the foyer and hung up his coat and scarf while Naomi shut the door.

“How is everything with Rachel?” he asked.

“Oh!” Naomi said. “It’s great! She’s great! Honestly, I have no idea why you and Jonathan prefer men when _women_ exist.”

Anthony rolled his eyes. “Jonathan doesn’t _prefer_ men; he’s gay. Besides, it’s not as if you’re not interested in men.”

“Well, yeah,” Naomi said, huffing. “But men _suck._ No offense.”

“None taken,” Anthony said.

“Speaking of –” Naomi said. “How’re things with – Justin, wasn’t it?”

“It _was,_ yeah,” Anthony said. “And it’s over. Amicable, but – over.”

Naomi worried at her lower lip. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Anthony said. “As I said: we’re still friends. And he did stick up for me when his parents got a bit, well – you know – over him dating a Jew.”

* * *

“What’s with that look?”

Anthony looked up to see his Uncle Isaac standing nearby, nearly empty glass of wine in hand. “Nothing.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Uncle Isaac said, “but I _have_ got some experience, you know.”

“A friend of mine broke things off with his long-term girlfriend a few months ago,” Anthony said.

He didn’t miss the look in his uncle’s eye. “A friend.”

 _“Just_ a friend,” Anthony said. “From school.”

“Okay.”

“He’s spending Christmas with his Gran. So it’s not as if he’s alone.”

“Well,” Uncle Isaac said. “If you’d like to invite him on Friday – everyone will understand that he’s just a friend.”

He knew what his uncle was getting at, and it didn’t help that he’d often gone to his uncle for advice before he’d emigrated (before the war), but things were different now. Infinitely more complicated. So he said, “I’ll ask him.”

* * *

Neville came back Monday morning as Anthony was just getting ready for work. Anthony caught him in the kitchen.

“Hey! How was your Christmas?”

“It was nice,” Neville said. “Gran said she understood about Hannah and me. Although Uncle Algie _did_ ask me if I was gay, but that’s – that’s just Uncle Algie.”

“Oh,” Anthony said. He tried not to think about it – which was easier said than done. “My parents wanted to know if you’d like to come over on Friday. It’s Chanukah _and_ it’s Shabbos, and my uncles are in town. The – gay ones, I mean.”

“Oh,” Neville said.

“You haven’t got to,” Anthony said, “but I told them I’d ask.”

“I think I’d like that,” Neville said. “I’ve never done Chanukah before, though.”

“Oh, that’s nothing to worry about,” Anthony said. “We sing some prayers, light candles, sing some songs, and eat loads of fried food and play games.”

“Sounds like fun,” Neville said.

* * *

His Aunt Miri caught him on his way out of work. “Would you like to come over to ours for Chanukah tonight?”

He knew, with his aunt, that this wasn’t a simple request to spend time together. They worked together – even though they were in different departments, they still saw each other nearly every day.

What could he do but accept? “That sounds lovely, Aunt Miri. I do need to just send an owl to my roommate.”

“He’s still in the Janus Thickey ward.”

Of course he was. “Then I’ll stop home and leave him a note,” Anthony said. He wasn’t about to interrupt on Neville’s time with his parents. There was something wildly invasive about it, even if Neville knew by now that he knew.

“Sure thing,” Aunt Miri said. “Just stop by when you get a chance. No need to bring anything.”

* * *

He did Floo to his Aunt Miri’s house, even though she lived in London, too. While his own parents and his uncles followed Ashkenazi customs, his Uncle Iain’s mother had grown up in Morocco, and so things were always a bit different at his Aunt Miri’s house. The food alone was different enough – typically (though he’d never admit to it), Anthony preferred it over his own mother’s cooking, but yesterday, his Uncle Dan had helped to cook, too. And he really thought his Uncle Dan was probably the best cook he’d ever encountered.

His aunt wasted no time in accosting him. “I saw your new roommate in the ward today.”

“So you’ve said,” Anthony said. “It’s Boxing Day. He always stops by on Boxing Day.”

“Well, yes, and a bit more frequently than all that, to be honest.”

“They _are_ his parents,” Anthony said. He knew he was lucky – his entire family had survived both wars, even if some of them had had to flee the country to do so, and out of all of them, he rather thought that _he_ was the most psychologically damaged by it. While his parents and aunt had spent the entire war working as Healers at Saint Mungo’s, they hadn’t had to fight Death Eaters themselves.

“He talks to them, you know, even though they don’t show any signs of understanding.”

“Aunt Miri.”

“I think you should talk to him. About – the both of you.”

Anthony frowned. “What d’you mean?”

“Isaac told me he was under the impression that _perhaps_ your feelings for Mr. Longbottom might go a bit beyond standard friendship.”

Even if his uncle _hadn’t_ said as much, Anthony was certain that his face gave him away. “We’ve been friends for a decade, Aunt Miri.”

“Some of the best relationships start out that way. And it’s not as if – Isaac and I are _both_ bisexual, too, you know.”

Anthony groaned. “I really don’t want to discuss this right now.”

“Fine,” Aunt Miri said, “But discuss it with him.”

“He’s straight. Why would I discuss it with him when he’s _straight?”_

“Isaac thought _he_ was straight until he was nearly twenty and _now_ look at him. I don’t think he’s ever actually been with a witch.”

Anthony pulled a face. “I don’t need to know about my uncle’s sex life.”

And Anthony knew that _Neville_ had been with a witch – had been with two witches, actually. And while Anthony had, too, himself, they were both twenty-five. Surely if he knew that Neville had been with two witches, he’d also know if Neville were bi.

They’d known each other for over fourteen years, now, after all, and they’d been friends for over a decade. He’d known about Justin before they’d dated – just as he’d known about Michael and Terry and Ginny and even Luna Lovegood. And if he’d been a bit suspicious of Hermione Granger – or, god, Ron Weasley with his obvious crush on Viktor Krum – _oh._

Perhaps, then, his aunt had a point.

It was, after all, unlikely that a straight man would find himself surrounded by so many friends who _weren’t_ straight.

* * *

He was too exhausted to try to talk to Neville about it (and Anthony knew it could be a very long and intense conversation) the next few nights when he stumbled home from work around midnight. He said the blessings and lit the candles and sat in the living room with a book while they burned, and on Thursday, when he felt like he might up for it, Neville had left a note by the menorah telling Anthony that he’d turned in early.

On Friday, Anthony got off of work early and headed home to change. It wasn’t as if he’d wear his work robes to Shabbos dinner at his grandparents’ no matter the time of year, but definitely not on Chanukah when his uncles were visiting from America.

He didn’t much fancy putting on a set of dress robes, and no one in his family had ever minded much if he showed up wearing Muggle clothes (he doubted his Uncle Dan had _ever_ worn proper robes), so he pulled on a pair of trousers, a button-down Muggle shirt, and one of his favorite sweaters – nothing too casual, with blue and bronze stripes.

He headed out to the living room, then, and resumed the book he’d started the night before as he waited for Neville.

He didn’t have long to wait. Neville came out wearing scarlet dress robes. He looked Anthony up and down – he was just looking, surely, not actually checking him out – and his mouth twisted into a sly smile. “I see we both went for House colours.”

“It looks like we did, doesn’t it?” Anthony asked. He didn’t say how Gryffindor colours suited Neville, even though they did. He didn’t want to get into that just before they went to see his entire family for Chanukah. “We can apparate in, if you’d like. It’s just my grandparents’ house.”

“Okay,” Neville agreed.

Anthony marked his page and set his book on the coffee table before he stood up. He offered Neville his arm, and, once Neville had taken it, he apparated to his grandparents’ house.

It was already full of people, and as Anthony led Neville into the living room, a brief survey showed that his Aunt Miri and Uncle Iain hadn’t even shown up yet. His cousin Naomi was on the phone (probably, he thought, with her girlfriend), and she waved at him but didn’t get up.

“You must be Neville!” his mother said, and Anthony thanked god that it was his mother and neither of his uncles, who were _definitely_ giving him a look. “I’m Cassandra, Anthony’s mother!”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Goldstein,” Neville said, although he looked rather confused, like he was trying to figure out where he knew her from.

Anthony decided to save him. “Everyone you’re going to meet tonight except for my uncles – all three of them – and my cousins are Healers at Saint Mungo’s.”

“You weren’t kidding when you called it a family tradition,” Neville said.

“Well, you know what they say about Jewish doctors,” Uncle Dan said. “I’m Dan Sokolovsky – Anthony’s uncle – and that’s my husband, Isaac and our son Jonathan on the sofa.”

“He used to write for the Prophet,” Anthony supplied, because it was very possible that Neville knew Uncle Dan by name.

“Before it became a _total_ rag,” Uncle Dan said. “And I would have never met Isaac if I hadn’t. Isaac’s a rabbi – and pretty shy.”

“I am _not_ shy,” Uncle Isaac said from his spot on the sofa. “I simply don’t see the point in crowding Anthony and his friend when Mum’ll make them both uncomfortable enough over dinner.”

Anthony wished his uncle weren’t right about that, but there was nothing to be done at this point.

“I didn’t even meet her until Anthony’s father and I were _engaged,”_ Anthony’s mum said.

“She’s always loved me,” Uncle Dan said. “And Isaac and I had only been together – what, just four months? – when I met her.”

“That’s because Isaac has always been her favourite,” Anthony’s father said. He smiled at Neville, who looked as uncomfortable as Anthony felt, and said, “Hi; I’m David, Anthony’s father.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Neville said, looking as though it were anything but.

“I have _never_ been Mum’s favourite,” Uncle Isaac said from the sofa.

“That’s something only a favourite child would say – that’s why we just have the one.”

Why had he ever agreed to this?

* * *

Anthony didn’t know why, but the relatives he’d _expected_ to be a problem (his Uncle Isaac, his Aunt Miri, and his Bubbe) were actually… completely fine. His cousins were more interested in the fact that he _still_ hadn’t seen the new _Star Wars_ films (“even though they’re kind of terrible,” Jonathan said) than anything Neville said or did, which _had_ to be an act.

Anthony knew that _he_ wasn’t famous, even though he’d been in the DA along with Neville from the beginning, but he also hadn’t cut the head off of Voldemort’s snake in front of hundreds of people – and he wasn’t an auror. Neville had and he was.

He shot Naomi a look behind Neville’s back that he _hoped_ read “what are you doing?”, and she simply shrugged and said she’d force him to watch the films one of these days, “since Jonathan’ll be working in the Ministry.”

“What about Rachel?” Anthony asked.

“We’re discussing it,” Naomi said. “Neville, have you ever been abroad?”

Neville nearly choked on his glass of wine. Anthony couldn’t blame him; it was the first time Naomi had addressed him directly all night. “I, er, a few times.”

“Oh?” Naomi asked. “Where’d you go?”

“Er, well, I’ve been – all over Europe for work,” Neville said. “And my – ex-girlfriend and I did a botanical holiday in – South Africa.”

Botany and Herbology were interests that Anthony rather thought no one in his family shared, so perhaps that was why no one probed more after that – although likely it was the mention of his ex-girlfriend.

“Neville, you’re the same age as Anthony, aren’t you?” Uncle Dan asked.

Neville nodded. “Yeah. We were in the same year at Hogwarts, but we didn’t really talk much until fifth year.”

Uncle Dan turned to Uncle Isaac. “Twenty-five seemed so much older twenty years ago. I think – Emmeline was the only one who _wasn’t_ married by then, wasn’t she?”

“I _think_ so,” Uncle Isaac said. “Unless you count Miri, although I’m _still_ unsure how my sister wormed her way into my group of friends.”

“Because _Max_ can recognise that I’m delightful,” Aunt Miri said.

“We’ve both got loads of friends who’re married,” Anthony said, which was a slight exaggeration, but he knew how his aunt and uncle could bicker if no one intervened. “One of Neville’s best friends is about to have her second child.”

“She wants me to be godfather, you know,” Neville said.

“That’s great!” Anthony said, and it was. He hadn’t seen much of Neville with Harry and Ginny’s son, but something about the way Neville cared for his plants told him that he’d be a wonderful godfather.

“You should _hear_ the names they’re floating, though,” Neville said. He pulled a face. “They’re all dreadful.”

“Surely they can’t be that bad.”

“If it’s a boy, he wants to name him after Snape.”

Oh. “Okay, that’s bad,” Anthony said.

 _“Severus_ Snape?” Uncle Isaac asked.

“Yeah,” Neville said. “We wouldn’t have won the war without him, but that doesn’t mean that he was a pleasant person, or anyone I’d name a child for.”

“Snape was vile,” Uncle Isaac said. “And the way it was discussed – he did all of this because he was in love with Lily Potter, which I’ll grant him, like half of the boys at Hogwarts with us, even though he called her the M-word in front of half her House and then later willingly joined a pureblood supremacist death cult after spending a good portion of his time at Hogwarts torturing Muggleborns while claiming to be in love with one.”

“I’m sorry,” Neville said, “he called her a _what?”_

“A word I’ve certainly never said,” Uncle Isaac said. “My friends and I weren’t far when it was happening, and we were just the year below them in school, and – one of them heard from – someone who knew. It wasn’t exactly a secret.”

“I definitely heard about it,” Aunt Miri said. “And not from you or Max, I don’t think.”

“D’you think – Harry knows about that?” Neville asked.

Uncle Isaac raised his eyebrows at Anthony, but he didn’t ask outright: Harry Potter?

“I’d ask Ginny,” Anthony said. “But I don’t know that – anyone would have told him?”

“Snape certainly wouldn’t have,” Neville said. Anthony remembered the rumour he’d heard in school that Snape had once been the form Neville’s boggart had taken. Even before the war, that was disturbing.

“No,” Anthony agreed. “Maybe you can talk them both into choosing better names.”

“I doubt it,” Neville said. “You know how stubborn both of them can be.”

“Then that kid will _really_ need a decent parental figure who can tell him that he was against naming him for Snape.”

Neville snorted. “You have a point.”

* * *

“I really like your family,” Neville said when they got home.

“I’m sorry my parents and Uncle Dan sort of – ambushed you.”

“It’s fine,” Neville said. “They were nice. They didn’t treat me like a celebrity – just sort of more like…” he trailed off, and Anthony realised with a jolt that Neville was fully aware that his family had treated him as a _boyfriend_ and _not_ as a friend. “Well, not a celebrity, at least. I didn’t realise how much I miss that, sometimes, with meeting new people. It’s like – they find out I’m Neville Longbottom, and then they’ve got it in their head that I’m some incredible war hero. And I’m not.”

“I mean,” Anthony said, “you _are_ kind of a war hero, Nev. No one else cut off that snake’s head.”

“I only did it because Harry told me to.”

“Yeah, but you were – incredible.”

“I was a teenager fighting for his life and running purely on adrenaline.”

“You’re important, you know,” Anthony said. “I know sometimes you like to – downplay all of the fantastic things you’ve done, but – if you ask me, you were just as instrumental as those three. And – frankly, I think Harry and Ginny should name their child in your honor.”

Neville blushed. “I don’t think I could – handle that,” he said. “But – thank you, Anthony.”

“It’s the truth,” Anthony said.

“I didn’t realise – Healer Strout was your aunt.”

“It’s not a very Jewish name,” Anthony said. “Her husband’s father is – matrilineally Jewish, so they’ve got a very _not_ typically Jewish last name. Besides, even if he’d been _Blumenthal,_ or something, it’s not as if we’re the only Jewish wizards in Britain.”

“You also don’t look very much like her at all,” Neville said.

“I somehow got my mum’s blond hair and blue eyes,” Anthony said. “Aunt Miri – definitely doesn’t have that.”

“She’s – really kind, you know. She talks a lot, but she always knows to give me space.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Anthony said.

“Anthony, your entire family is wonderful. You’re really lucky to have them.”

“I know I am,” Anthony said. “Trust me; I don’t take it for granted.”

Neville looked as though he wanted to say something else, but then he glanced at the clock. “I should go to bed. Have to work tomorrow. At least I got the day shift. The night shift on New Year’s is _awful.”_

“I think I’ll stay up to read a bit,” Anthony said. “But goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Neville said. “And – thank you.”

“Any time.”

* * *

“Do you think it’s within the realm of possibility that Neville might – fancy me?” Anthony asked Michael the next afternoon. They were at Michael’s flat in Diagon Alley, and Michael looked at him as though he’d forgotten Gant’s Law.

“You’re – you’re joking, right?” Michael asked.

“Should I be?”

“Weren’t you in Ravenclaw?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Anthony asked.

“It’s supposed to mean that Neville’s fancied you for _ages,_ mate. Since before he and Hannah split. Ernie reckons it was before he even moved in with Hannah, and tried to talk her out of going through with it.”

“Mike, that’s absurd,” Anthony said. “Why would he – go along with everything with Hannah if he fancied me? To a point of Ernie trying to talk her out of moving in with him? Come off it.”

“You know as well as I do that most of the things Neville does is to make other people happy. Whether that’s his grandmother, or Hannah, or just the general public – he’s never been very good at doing what he wants.”

That _did_ make sense. Neville didn’t seem very happy in his job, and Anthony had long held the suspicion that Neville would have been happier as a Herbologist. It stood, then, to reason, that Neville might apply that same logic of pleasing other people before himself to interpersonal relationships.

“I thought he’d gotten over that.”

“Evidently not,” Michael said.

“Should I… talk to him?” Anthony asked.

“That depends,” Michael said, “do you actually want to be with him? If you don’t, I really don’t think there’s any reason to bring it up. But if you do… maybe you’ll start the new year with a boyfriend.”

* * *

Neville came home at five on the dot, and Anthony sat in the living room reading a book and trying not to look like he’d been waiting.

“I’m going to shower, and then I think we could both use a drink,” Neville said.

“Stronger than wine? I was just about to light the candles when I finished this chapter.”

“Wine sounds heavenly, actually,” Neville said. “I’ll be back in a few.”

So Anthony waited, and tried to focus on his book. After he’d read the same line for the sixth time, he decided that it was useless, marked his page, and set up for Chanukah. He uncorked the wine and poured two glasses (and said a quick kiddush, because it felt _wrong_ not doing it on Chanukah, especially when he should _technically_ be making Havdallah, too).

Neville came out a few minutes after Anthony had said kiddush, wearing flannel pyjama pants and a black t-shirt that was _far_ too tight for it to be halfway fair.

Anthony turned his attention back to the wine. “I – poured two glasses.” He handed one of them to Neville.

“Thanks.”

“I, er, was going to light the candles.” He didn’t know why he’d waited, really, but Neville nodded.

“All right.”

So Anthony lit the shamash, recited the blessings, and lit six candles.

“I can cook,” he said, “or did you want to order in?”

“I, er… actually, I sort of wanted to – talk to you, first, if you don’t mind?”

Anthony swallowed down his anxiety and gulped down his wine. This would be fine. If Michael was right – there was no real conflict, was there? Because he knew that he fancied Neville. Knew that he wanted to kiss him and hold him and rip his t-shirt clean off and – he realised Neville was still looking at him, and that he hadn’t given him the go-ahead.

“All right,” he said. “Is this a – sit-down sort of conversation, or an I’ve-got-a-new-flat-let’s-celebrate sort of conversation?”

“The first, I think.”

So Anthony sat down on the sofa and swirled his wine around the glass, because the alternative would be drinking the rest of it before Neville had even so much as had a sip, and he didn’t want to do that.

After a moment, Neville sat down on the sofa as well, although he’d left a good deal of space between them.

“You know I’m still rotten at – interpersonal things,” Neville said.

“Not a great way to start out, Nev,” Anthony said in spite of himself. He wondered if Neville could tell how anxious he was, and rather thought it was obvious.

“I know,” Neville said. “Like I said: I’m rotten at – these sorts of things. But – I think I should tell you something.”

“All right,” Anthony said. He hoped Michael was right, and Neville wasn’t about to tell him that he’d gotten back together with Hannah aafter all. Hannah was lovely, and Anthony really did consider her a friend, but – this was _Neville._

“I suppose, first, I really ought to say… you know I’ve only dated two people in my life, and both of them were witches.”

Anthony nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

“But that doesn’t mean – and what I’m about to tell you is of the utmost secrecy.”

“What?”

Anthony looked up at Neville, who’d looked down to the glass of wine in his hands. There was a definite flush to his face. “I fancied Harry for a while.”

“Oh,” Anthony said, and then, “Really, Nev, who _didn’t_ fancy Harry at one point or another? I – snogged Hermione in sixth year.”

“You did?” Neville asked.

“It was – stress relief,” Anthony said. “I think she was just angry with Ron Weasley and did it to get back at him, but – it was just a one-time sort of thing.”

“I never knew that,” Neville said.

“Well, it’s not as if I was going to tell anyone.”

“Is there anything else like that I should know about?”

Anthony leaned back in his seat. “Slept with Zacharias Smith for – a while in school.”

“But he was awful!” Neville said.

“Yeah, he was,” Anthony agreed. “He was better to me than anyone else, but it was still more – well, I would say I didn’t start until after the war started, but we did start snogging in fourth year.”

“Fourth year?” Neville asked.

Anthony shrugged. “My philosophy was, initially, that I could just get it out of my system and move on – which wasn’t the case at all – and later… there was a war going on; was I really going to pass up the chance to sleep with someone where there was mutual attraction just because he was a prat? We’d all heard stories of how the last war had been, and – I was very aware of the fact that I could die.”

“I didn’t even realise that I’d fancied Harry until I was twenty,” Neville said. “And you were – fourteen and kissing other boys.”

“To be fair, my dad’s the only one of his siblings who’s straight. Aunt Miri and Uncle Isaac are both bi, and I grew up in a family where it was normal that my uncle had married another wizard, and Dad has a cousin who’s a lesbian and she and her partner have been together longer than I’ve been alive. It’s not as if I didn’t ever have anything to work through, but I’m fully aware that it was easier for me than most. And – well, as for you… Nev, I know how your Gran can be. Just because she’s better about it now – it doesn’t mean she wasn’t far too hard on you before.”

“Gran’s – complicated,” Neville said.

“I know she is,” Anthony said.

“It wasn’t just her,” Neville said. “I think I could’ve managed sooner if it were. It was – everyone else, too. Malfoy and Snape and everyone who treated me terribly. And Harry and I shared a dormitory, which – looking back, it would have made things awkward.”

“You should have seen our dormitory,” Anthony said.

“...You didn’t,” Neville said, looking a bit shocked.

“Two bi boys and a gay boy in a dormitory in a magical school, dealing with puberty and hormones? We absolutely did. It didn’t mean anything, of course, but… there was absolutely experimentation going on. We were _Ravenclaws.”_

“Oh,” Neville said. “So you’ve actually slept with both of them?”

“Years ago.” Which was a yes, but he really hoped that Neville didn’t think that this _meant_ anything.

“I’ve never – not with another man.”

Anthony very nearly offered, but he knew that if Neville _didn’t_ fancy him, that things could get messy because there _were_ feelings, even if they were just on his part. The reason everything had worked out with Terry and Michael had been because there _hadn’t_ been any feelings.

“Well,” Anthony said instead, “there’s nothing wrong with that. There are plenty of bi people who’re never with – men or women, as the case may be.”

“I…” Neville began. “Anthony, I’ve got something that I need to tell you, and – I’m not sure how you’ll react, but – you’re one of my closest friends, and I don’t – I really don’t want to lose that.”

“You won’t,” Anthony said. Whatever it was, he was sure of that.

“All right,” Neville said. “You see, the thing is – even after the war, I… I wasn’t quite doing what it was _I_ wanted to be doing. There was a bit, a few years, I think, where I didn’t know what was going on and sort of just – went with it, because – I’m just Neville Longbottom. I’m not – a war hero, and I only did – the right thing. And if Harry hadn’t _told_ me to kill the snake, I never would have thought to! And I know, I know,” he said, catching Anthony’s eye, “I _did_ kill the snake, I _did_ stand up to Voldemort in front of everyone, I _did_ continue the DA. But I – after the war, I always thought I’d have a quiet life, with someone I loved – and that was definitely Luna, at the time – and sort of – fade into obscurity. Ron’s got the same problem, I think. Only he _is_ at least happily married, and he _did_ always want to outshine his brothers.”

Anthony sipped at his wine and nodded along. He wanted to interrupt, to ask where this was going, but he knew that he needed to let Neville say his piece.

“Even – everything with Hannah. That wasn’t really because I wanted to do it. I mean, I _did_ like her, maybe even loved her, but I – shouldn’t have moved in with her, should have communicated more clearly. She’s absolutely lovely and didn’t deserve any of that.”

At that, Anthony _had_ to object. “Neither did you,” he said. “That was just a rotten situation all-around.”

“Thanks,” Neville said. “But I was really the one who made the mistake, even if it _was_ a rotten situation all around. Because I thought that was what I should do. But then I realised – living with her, that I didn’t – I couldn’t do that for the rest of my life. Not with her. And there’s nothing wrong with her, which sort of just made me feel even worse? There was nothing she did or said or _anything._ And – the worst part, which she sussed out almost immediately after I said that we needed to discuss everything, was that – there was someone else. Not that I cheated on her! I’ve never cheated on _anyone!_ Nor would I! But I definitely had feelings for someone else.”

“Did you ever – tell this person you had feelings for that you had feelings for them?”

“No,” Neville said. “I couldn’t work out _how._ And I was – afraid, of a lot of things. How – Hannah would take it, how my friends would take it, how the general public would take it, because as much as I hate to admit it, I’m still somehow _newsworthy._ Hannah said our breakup was covered in some witches’ magazines. And when she told me that, all I could think was how relieved I was that I hadn’t broken up with her and then turned around and started dating another man. Could you imagine?”

Anthony wasn’t sure whether or not Neville had meant to _say_ that it was a man he was interested in, but he said, “I’m sure they said perfectly vile things regardless – which neither of you deserve.”

“It still wasn’t right, what I did. But – I’ve thought a lot about it these past few months. Especially since…” He trailed off, sipped at his wine, and didn’t look at Anthony.

“Since what?” he asked, focusing all his attention on Neville now.

“Since it’s you I’ve been living with,” Neville said. “And I’ve never – done anything at all with another man; I’ve got _no_ bloody idea what I’m doing, or even – if I’m actually _doing_ it, and that sounds mad, doesn’t it?”

Anthony moved just a bit closer and placed his hand gently on Neville’s knee. “Nev, I want to be very clear about this: are you saying that you’re interested in me? In – _dating_ me?”

Neville nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry if you don’t feel the same, or if I’ve just ruined everything, but – I thought, with everything lately, and – meeting your family, that maybe you might… maybe I wasn’t as hopeless as I thought. And I even talked to Luna and Rolf – twice! – and –”

“Oh _god,_ you talked to _Rolf?”_ Anthony asked.

Neville frowned. “Was I not meant to? Do you know Rolf? Beyond, you know, as Luna’s fiancé.”

“We’re Jewish wizards, of course I know Rolf,” Anthony said. “And – telling him is fine; Luna was bound to, anyway, but it’s just that – his family and mine are very close. I always sort of grew up thinking of him as a cousin of sorts. My Uncle Isaac and Rolf’s uncle, Max, have been best friends since they were children. Rolf’s known me since I was born, I think.”

“Oh,” Neville said. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologise for,” Anthony said. “Really. It’s not as if my uncle wasn’t going to interrogate me about all of this before he goes back to the States, anyway. I’d just hoped that would happen _after.”_

“After?” Neville asked, and Anthony realised his mistake.

 _“Shit._ Fuck, sorry. Of course I feel the same,” he said. “I – you mentioned Rolf, and I got sidetracked, but – Nev, I’m mad for you.”

“You are?” Neville asked.

“Absolutely.”

“Oh, thank Merlin,” Neville said, and he took a long drink of wine. “I worked myself all up, and I couldn’t help but think – what would happen if you didn’t feel the same.”

“Well, I do, so you really haven’t got to think about that anymore.”

Neville smiled, and Anthony thought he’d really never seen a more beautiful sight, but then Neville leaned in and kissed him. It was one of those rare moments of Gryffindor impulse to which Neville was not immune, and Anthony kissed him back.

“Wow,” Neville said when he pulled away.

“You can say that again,” Anthony said.

“So are we – together?”

“If you’d like to be.”

Neville kissed him again; this time a quick peck. “I’d love to be.”

“Then,” Anthony said, “I suppose I’ve got to tell my family that you actually _are_ my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend,” Neville repeated.

“Would you – rather call it something else?” Anthony asked.

“No, no,” Neville said. “It’s lovely. You’re lovely.”

Anthony kissed him, long and deep, and Neville kissed him back.

“Luna and Rolf wanted us to come over tomorrow night – for Chanukah,” Neville said when they’d pulled apart. “I told them I would, but that I wasn’t sure about you.”

“Well,” Anthony said, “the Scamanders always do have a good time for Chanukah. Is it just Luna and Rolf, or Rolf’s family, too?”

“Just the two of them,” Neville said. “I asked.”

“Good,” Anthony said. “I’d rather deal with _my_ family interrogating me about our relationship before I have to deal with all of the Scamanders doing the same. Besides, I think they’d all be sort of offended if the Scamanders found out first.”

He had an idea, then, and perhaps it was a bit much, but it was Chanukah, and it was _Neville._

“Neville?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you like to… have lunch with my family tomorrow? Likely just my parents and my uncles and cousins.”

“As your boyfriend?” Neville asked.

“If you’d like. If you don’t think it’s too soon.”

Neville kissed his cheek. “I’d love to.”

Anthony wasn’t sure he’d ever had a better Chanukah in all twenty-five years of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> "lol i'm a jewish doctor/lawyer" jokes are super old and not at all funny and yet every jewish lawyer and doctor i know insists on making them so ???? i guess ????
> 
>  
> 
> [tumblr](http://xslytherclawx.tumblr.com/)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [now you've come along](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16930575) by [xslytherclawx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xslytherclawx/pseuds/xslytherclawx)




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